The Chimaera Cycle: Chimaeram Ortus
by CorvusTheCarrionLord
Summary: Scourge the Dogslayer, who united a whole city in fear. Firestar the Great, the hero who slew him & led the Clans with honour. A story oft-told amongst the rogues & loners of the empty-lands. From traveller to traveller, from mother to daughter, father to son the story is relayed. One day it reached the ear of a wandering, abandoned tomcat & his adopted canine brother.
1. Prologue

_"Well, normally I'm against big things. I think the world is going to be saved by millions of small things. Too many things can go wrong when they get big."_

_― Pete Seeger_

_Warm blankets, warm milk; and a warm, furry body next to me squirming and shifting to better access the milk given to us by mother. It dares threaten my milk! _Being the brave kit, I am, I mew for my mother to aid me in vanquishing this foul usurper. A bizarre noise erupts from the creature. Sadly, it does not strike me as a noise of extermination. It was soon answered by decidedly alien chattering & cooing.

_Egad! Barely older than a week, and already I've been betrayed by my family! For some non-cat imposter too!_

_Wait a minute. The milk-thief is not a cat! What fresh hell is this!_ While I wail and mew in a distant land, inside a great hearthcrafter tower, a kitting takes place.

"Have you ever wondered if kits are secretly super intelligent & only get dumb as they age?" Feste, a jester employed by Akar, ponders, with the face of a consummate philosopher. This, as usual, fails to amuse his employer, the King, who promptly dismisses the fool from the tower.

"Do you need anything, my love?" He asks nervously after Feste vanished down the old spiral staircase.

"I've faced worse than a kitting!" His mate, the Queen of Artain, admonishes softly, "Prospera is the best Witchdoctor in all of Akann; I'll be okay." I add softly, after seeing him deflate at my words. In response, he glances at the aforementioned she-cat.

"H'r majesty shall be well, tis' only a minor kitting. Worry not m'lord, I hath delivered dozens!" Prospera reassures Akar in her twisted language. However, he is not wholly convinced as he noticed the furs on her crooked jaw, already whitened by age, growing ever more unkempt as the week progressed. "I am sure Akann wouldst benefit from having its king f'r a couple of heartbeats this day. Pray thee, do not w'rry 'twill be some timeth yet." Having been thoroughly exhausted by the affairs of state and life he finds himself lacking the willpower to oppose the two forces of nature before him.

"As you say, Prospera," Akar concedes as he turns towards the stairs. Dragging his paws all the way. He soon shifts his head to look at us. "If you need anything, just ask for me. Okay, Fel."

"As you wish, my Firestar." The Queen jests. He flusters & makes his way down the staircase. _Funny how even after all these seasons, he still holds that old loners' tale close to his heart. Never change love, never change._

As he descends the ancient steps of the partially abandoned tower, Akar comes before the Royal Court of Akann. He takes a deep breath before he delivers a short speech on the future of the cluster and its colonies. In the corner of his eye, he notices the Elder of Arcanaan, that wise and learned sage, give him the slightest dip of his head; if it was an acknowledgement, respect or pride Akar knows not.

As Akar speechifies his dark reflection, Alphonsus the King of Blackguard prepares to do the same in his Kingdom.

"Assemble! Assemble! Assemble! The King hath come! The King hath come!" Amadeus the shadow priest cries to the already assembled populace. _Pompous fool. We are a noble cluster, not some tribal glaring_. The King derides as he strides atop the ancient Blackstone, a great jagged rock long since blackened by lightning and fire. Dismissing the foreign priest with a flick of his tail the King stands proud and his cats ready themselves for his words.

"Cats of Blackguard! Once more barbarians press upon our borders! Their colonies pollute our hunting grounds! Their thugs harass our kits and queens!" He roars with the fury of a tiger. "Their **nobles**," he spits as if the word was poison, "dare claim our lands of untold generations as their own!" The enraptured audience is rendered breathless by their rage and awe. "Will we let this happen?"

"Never!" The cats yell.

"Will we let our **great** nation fall to arrogant savages?"

"NEVER!" The host of cats shout.

"Will we lay down and permit this **disrespect** to continue?"

"**NEVER**!" The host roars.

"Death to Hearthdwellers! Glory to Blackguard!"

"GLORY TO BLACKGUARD!" While the audience's emotions swell and the Nine Earls assemble battle patrols; Amadeus looks on from the roots of an ancient Yew tree. The King can disrespect the Shadow Church all he wants because at the end of the day... kings can die and shadows can return.


	2. Remembrance

"One of the luckiest things that can happen to you in life is, I think, to have a happy childhood."

— Agatha Christie

Relief fills my aching paws as I traipse back to the camp. It is located between two fallen oaks and a sheer stone cliff. Thus, only one approach must be watched closely. I cannot wait to rest my weary limbs. Making fake trails is far harder than I first thought. Still, it is necessary. Scour & his host of rogues are far too arrogant to simply let my canine brother & me go unhindered. They idealize the Dogslayer after all! A cold breeze washes through my body at the thought of such madness. There is a reason all the old stories call him 'the villainous', spoiler, it wasn't his taste in collar colours! My idle ponderings are cut off by my belly knawing at itself. Already deprived of food and also accentuated by the hard work I had finished only minutes ago. It's a shame Peritas can't hunt, as I'm far too tired to do so myself. As I pass by the log opposite the cliff I hear a low scuffling & huffing noise emanating from the camp. As I turn the corner and enter the bivouac, my brother, Peritas' sorrowful meandering greets my eyes.

"You okay?" I inquire gently, as I approach my brother.

"Tell me about Mother, please," Peritas pleads, glancing at me with his wide brown eyes. Many of the words coming out harsher due to his canine pronunciation.

"What do you want to know?" I respond, despite already knowing the answer. We have had this conversation many times before, not that he remembers.

"Everything." He sighs as he lowers his head to rest upon his mighty, brown & black paws. Like before, I lie down before him and begin my story.

"She was beautiful." The stories make my brother happy. Luckily he never remembers a word. If he did, I would need to make up new ones.

_A face, gnarled and scarred, greets my eye, as I awaken. From its maw dangles a single mouse, the creature's blood trickling down my mother's crooked underbite. She drops the corpse with a dismissive glance, before stalking back to her little corner of the den, leaving us, to consume it in peace. As we descend upon our morning meal, I notice that our mother is not eating anything. Instead, she lies there, staring off into space. Idly, I wonder where father went. Although I do not ask our mother to answer the question; she made it clear that I am never to question. The injuries she received that day warning me not to test her patience. Sadness gnaws at my heart as I reluctantly attempt to return to my meal. Peritas, still a small puppy at the time, chews on one end of the mouse slowly. I could snatch it from him and have it for myself. He wouldn't even remember; he never remembers. I begin grooming his fur instead, attempting to exorcise the tangled mess of knots from his pelt. He needs the food more than I do anyway. Cats grow small, dogs grow big. My stomach disagrees with my decision, partially egged on by the dirt that my tongue dislodges from Peritas' pelt, its grimy tang stirring my half-starved insides. The lack of edibility meaning little to my belly. Despite this, I soldier on. I made a promise after all, and I not in the habit of breaking them._

I didn't tell him all that, though. Rather, I spun a tale of a she-cat of unparalleled beauty: a coat of pure white, eyes a resplendent blue, an elegance befitting Sandstorm the Canyonclimber! With suitors ranging from all over too! Peritas wagged his tail at the mention of how they clambered over each other just to get a glimpse of our mother. After indulging in some humour at the fictional tomcats' expense, I decided to press on. "She was quite wise." I intone.

_Once more, she had dismissed my advice without due consideration. On such an important issue, as well! I saw that band of rogues attack a she-cat, they even stole the food given to her by the hearthcrafters! Did the testimony of her own son mean nothing? By the ancestors! I never told her a single lie, yet still, she chooses that tomcat, over us! She's been betrayed by handsome toms before, yet does she ever learn? No! I don't understand! He makes the same promises, tells the same lies, invents the same excuses, even flashes the same **scourge-damned** smile! 'She stole the food from us; my warriors were merely reclaiming it. Like when noble Firestar smote the villain Scourge & drove the blood-host from his lands.' his words echo in my mind, poetic yet soulless. With her experience, one would expect she wouldn't fall for so obvious a ruse. Honestly, sometimes I wonder who has the worse memory: Peritas or our Mother!_

"Was she kind?" Peritas mumbles, in his deep, rumbling way, as he starts to drift off to sleep.

"Yes, very kind." I lied again.

_"Get out! Leave! And take **that** with you!" She screeched and swatted at Peritas with her claws extended. He wilts & scurries away in response, whimpering all the way._

_"Mother, please listen!" I beg, to no avail. Her head drops down between her hunched shoulders before launching forward and snapping her jaws within a whisker-length of my face._

_"NO! ENOUGH!" She snarls, "You're always **doing** this! Ruining **everything**!"_

_"Mother, I..."_

**_"SHUT UP!"_**_ She roars, "Scour took us in! Fed us! Gave m-us a home! Still, you lie! That idiot is no different! Dragging me down with him; driving others away!__"  
"Don't call him..." a second swipe cuts me off, carving a notch in my left ear._

**_"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"_**_ she shrieks. I back off before following Peritas' trail of crumpled brambles & broken branches. We are not dealing with this anymore. I'll take Peritas and leave her with that oh-so-wonderful rogue of hers._

One might wonder why I do not tell him the truth. The answer is simple, he hasn't done anything to deserve being burdened with it. Even if it would be for just a couple of moments.

"Oh, I saved some rabbit for you. It's in the knothole, I covered it with herbs like you said." Peritas mentions casually, before rolling onto his side. Letting out a truly massive sigh as he does so. Of course, he remembers stuff to do with food! I try to restrain my amused disappointment and make my way over to the disguised meat.


End file.
